


You're Bee-utiful

by cynosure_phrases



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Awkward Boners, Bottom Sherlock, Confessions, Crushes, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of Unnamed Characters, Military Kink, Party, Teen John, Teen Sherlock, Teenlock, Underage Drinking, Virgin Sherlock, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynosure_phrases/pseuds/cynosure_phrases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There needs to be a god damn handbook to friendships you want more from. How To Be the Best Mate Without Showing How Needy I Am or Friends Are Forever (Even if I Want Your Cock Up My Arse). </p><p>~</p><p>Sherlock has had a thing for John for years now. Basically ever since he met John, he just wanted to hold John's hand. Later, he wanted more than just holding hands, but as it's clear, Sherlock isn't one to say anything. Now the two teen boys are at a party together and their whole friendship is about to take a step up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Bee-utiful

Sherlock stares at himself through the hallway mirror.

 _Shit._  He thinks to himself. _Shit. No. God no. I look like an idiot. An absolute idiot. The most idiotic around. Fuck everything. Fuck everyone. Everyone's going to laugh. John's going to laugh. He's going to laugh at everything. No. Abort mission. Out. Done. Tell John you're sick. You've got pneumonia. Mycroft ate too much cake again and you've got to laugh at him as he spews pink colored chunks into the upstairs loo._

He reaches back and adjusts his wings, swallowing hard. He shifts the home made antenna on top of his head. 

_Maybe it would look better slanted- no._

He takes a deep breath, stepping back. The black and yellow horizontally stripped shirt he has on goes past his palms, stopping about halfway up his middle fingers. Sadly, he couldn't find any proper bottoms that didn't make him look like a clown, so instead he has on black shorts and thigh high black and yellow horizontal stripped socks that he somehow convinced Harry to buy for him online. He bought the wings at a Halloween supply store, and he made the bouncing, blank antenna himself. He just has basic black shoes.

"Mycroft?"

Silence.

"Mycroooofftttt?"

"Yes?!"

"Will you-"

"For the last time, I refuse to 'whip up' something to make you ill!"

Sherlock frowns, huffing. He keeps his eyes on the mirror, still frowning. The shirt is at least 3 sizes too big. Nervously, Sherlock pulls at his sleeves, turning from side to side. 

 _Maybe my hair..._  

He touches a curl. Bad idea. Rapidly, he unsuccessfully tries to tuck the free curl back into his hair. Sighing, he walks into the sitting room and flops on the sofa, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close.

He starts thinking of things to text John.  _  
_

~~_Sorry, sick._~~ No... you saw him this afternoon.

~~_I've died, this is me in the afterlife._  ~~

~~_The black plague is back and it's worse than ever._ ~~

~~_I've just been commissioned_   ~~ Sherlock can't even finish that one.

~~_I don't like people, but I like you. I really like you. Really really like you. I really don't like your ex girlfriend(s). I like your smile. I like the way you laugh. Your laugh makes me all happy and it's so stupid and I hate it, but I love you. I've loved you since I could understand what love is._ ~~

**Do I have to go to the party? -SH**

Sherlock tosses his phone to the other side of the sofa, hugging the pillow closer as he watches the phone, basically expecting it to explode.

John answers a few minutes later.

**You don't have to, but I want you to. Please? For me?**

Sherlock swallows hard, slowly reaching over and scooping up his mobile.

**Only if you promise not to go off shagging somebody in the bathroom again. -SH**

**That was only that once, Sherlock, and I wasn't even in there for 15 minutes.**

**13 minutes and 17 seconds, to be exact. -SH**

**Arse. I'll be there in 10. If you don't want to go, I won't force you.**

Sherlock stares at the screen, biting his bottom lip. At this point, it's swollen and pinker than usual. Great. Clicking off the phone, Sherlock turns it in his hand, watching the light reflect off of the smooth surfaces. 

 _Give it up, Sherlock,_ a tiny voice shouts from inside his head.  _He's never going to love you back. You've known him for more than half your life, you know he doesn't do that. Do you. He doesn't like guys. Have you ever seen him with a bloke? Kiss one? No. You've seen him with pretty girls in his arms, usually whispering in their ear as a smile spreads across their pretty, female face. Then John goes for the kill, kissing them in some way that must be hypnotizing, but of course it is. He's John. He, and all he is, is hypnotizing. Who doesn't want to get with the rugby captain?_

About 10 minutes pass before Sherlock hears a car rolling into the Holmeses' driveway, followed by shoes pressing onto gravel as John walks up to the door.

_Bum-bum-be-bum-bum._

"I'll get it!" Sherlock shouts, standing up quickly. He shoves his phone into his pocket and goes to the front door, antenna tilting slightly to the right.

As soon as Sherlock opens the door, his eyes go wide at the sight. Standing there is John in a military costume.

John.

Standing.

There.

In.

Military.

Gear.

Sherlock's mouth opens, but he quickly snaps his jaw shut, having to shift more behind the door and pray,  _pray_ , the shirt doesn't really make lumps in fabric look larger.

John smiles. "Well come on, then, let me see what you are," he says, voice calm and gentle as if he's trying to coax a fawn out from behind a bush.

Sherlock bites his lip again. He can't come out now. Definitely not now. Maybe... No. Well... okay, maybe.

Sherlock slowly steps to the side. No longer being shielded by the door, Sherlock grabs the bottom of his shirt and holds it out a bit, crossing his long legs while not looking the other boy in the eyes. The moment he stepped out, he could already imagine how much John would laugh. "It's... um... homemade," he says quietly.

"It's pretty damn cool," Johns adds, eyeing Sherlock up and down. 

Sherlock's eyes flick up to meet John's.

Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin.

Sherlock's eyes drops back down. "So... um..." he mumbles. "I've decided that I want to go the party with you... not  _with_ _you_! I- I meant... with... you..." Shut. Up.

John's smile widens. "Cat got your tongue?"

Sherlock nods quickly, looking at the floor. He hears John chuckle.

"Come on then, lets get going," the blonde boy advises, "we don't want to miss anything."

Sherlock nods shyly, yelling back at Mycroft that he's going out and to tell mum when she's back from the store.

He follows John to the car, still  _very_ aware of the bulge in his shorts.  _God, that looks great on him._ Sherlock knows John wants to go into military. They rarely talk about it though, it always causes Sherlock to panic, which luckily stays mostly internal. Even though Sherlock doesn't want John to go off, oh god, how amazing he would look in his actual uniform. _  
_

Before getting into the car, Sherlock sheds his wings and places them at the foot of his seat before sitting down. He buckles up and sits up straight, folding his hands over his lap while trying not to look suspicious.

As John starts driving, Sherlock keeps his eyes out the window, counting houses and cars while wondering who the hell will get lucky with Watson tonight, or maybe, just _maybe_ , it'd be another one of those nights. The nights that John doesn't really do anything. He just goes for a little while, talks to people as Sherlock sort of stands in the corner and observes people. Of course, they're both always in the same rooms those nights. John never goes anywhere without Sherlock and Sherlock doesn't go anywhere without John. Those are the taller boy's favorite nights. Especially when they leave that night, usually earlier than usual, and go and do something. They go to one of each others houses and do something until they're too tired to function and just sleep. Sherlock can still remember one night that they ended up falling asleep under the stars and when Sherlock woke up, John's hand was only centimeters from Sherlock's. It was so close, but so far. Too far.

By the time that they get to the house, the party's already alive with music and lights. Some people can be seen from windows and some are out from, chatting or not exactly chatting, but their mouths are definitely being used.

John has to park an at least 3 minute walk away, but manages to get in. Sherlock gets out and sighs happily. He managed to calm himself down in more than one way.

Following John in, Sherlock looks around. He barely knows these people... well, actually he knows quite a bit about them, just not personally. That girl over there is pregnant, but it's too early on for most people to tell. That boy over there is gay, but only his best friend knows, but that's because they're shagging. The couple making out in the corner are secret lovers since they're dating each others siblings. 

Sherlock sighs and looks at John's feet as he walks, just following the other boy. Where else is he supposed to go? 

They head into the kitchen and John grabs two drinks off the table, handing one to Sherlock. Sherlock opens it and takes a sip, cringing at the taste. He's hated alcohol ever since he could sneak tastes of it. Never could get used to the taste, sadly. He'd be able to legally buy it soon enough, but he doubts that he ever will voluntarily, unless John wants to go out drinking. That's what friends do, right?

_There needs to be a god damn handbook to friendships you want more from. How To Be the Best Mate Without Showing How Needy I Am or Friends Are Forever (Even if I Want Your Cock Up My Arse)._

John looks over and smiles at Sherlock, making the boy's legs feel like jelly about to give way completely underneath of him.

"Seems like a decent party, huh?" John says.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Sherlock attempts to sound more not himself. 

John chuckles and takes another sip of his drink. "Well, it sounds like everyone's out back. Shall we?"

Sherlock nods, fixing his antenna. 

Stepping outside, Sherlock is hit with a louder wave of noise that he'd been hearing hints of since they drove close. There's speakers set up on chairs and mounted on the wall, but Sherlock just feels like he's being bombarded with sound. People laughing, people talking, to much going on and not enough mental room. 

He feels like the walls are closing in, even the nonexistent ceiling his head.

Sherlock goes over to the fence and leans against it after John walks off into the crowd. The curly haired boy swallows hard and tries to ignore the sounds coming from the bushes near him. The giggles and squeaks, followed by quiet moaning and muttering and even more giggles.

Sherlock closes his eyes, gently squeezing his cup while taking a deep breath. Fuck. He hates this. He always manages to forget how much he absolutely hates this. 

Taking another very slow inhale, Sherlock looks down into his drink, swirling the liquid around. He isn't even sure he knows what it is, but it's strong. Incredibly strong. He frowns and takes another small sip, hoping it'd make him forget that he's doing an awful job at actually being at the party.

A few minutes later, someone taps on Sherlock's shoulder and Sherlock's eyes shoot up, ready to snap at whoever it is, but blushes when he sees that it's John. 

"Hey," John says loudly, still only barely able to hear from around the noise. He has a smile plastered across his face, possibly from too much to drink already. He may have downed his cup.

"Hey," Sherlock answers. 

"Care to dance with me?" John asks, smirking.

Sherlock blinks. 

_I heard him wrong. There's another Sherlock possibly here. He's drunk out of his goddamn mind._

"Um... sure, I guess."

Smiling, John reaches his hand out and takes Sherlock's, spinning him out with him. Immediately, Sherlock feels uneasy. This isn't right. John's wasted, probably, and he never really dances with Sherlock. At least, not in this kind of situation. 

Sherlock yanks his hand away from John's after a minute, vision feeling fuzzy. "S-stop!" he gasps.

Looking back at him, John frowns, yet looks more hurt than angry. He's about to open his mouth to say something, but Sherlock interjects quickly.

"I... I can't breathe. I need to get away."

"Oh, ahh, alright," John answers, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can I take you inside? Maybe get you some water?"

Sherlock nods quickly, swallowing hard. Shit. Maybe John wasn't just getting a little out of control. He looks down as John wraps his arms around his shoulders and leads him inside, getting water from the kitchen and staying with Sherlock.

Staring down into his glass, Sherlock frowns.

_John's still here. Why?_

"I don't need your pity, John, I can take care of myself."

A few seconds pass and John doesn't leave.

"I thought you like to dance."

Sherlock's head shoots up when John finishes. "I... I do... just... why?"

John shrugs. "I've always wanted to dance with you and now just seemed like a good time."

Sherlock blushes hard and looks down shyly. "Why now?"

"Because you look great right now."

_No._

"You're an awful liar, John."

"I'm not lying, Sherlock."

Shifting awkwardly, Sherlock contemplates getting out as quickly as he can, but John has the car. He doesn't want to endure John's jokes right now. This is total bullshit. John would never- ever- in a million fucking years- be attracted to Sherlock. It's a law in the universe. "Thou shalt not be attracted to one (William) Sherlock (Scott) Holmes." If one breaks this, they must be a) loony or b) on something that is certainly illegal. Hopefully John is the first.

"I think you look bee-autiful tonight."

Sherlock bursts into laughter, face beet red. "John, stop it, now. It's not funny."

Sherlock then feels unexpected hands touch his sides and arms wrap around his waist. Soon, John is so close that Sherlock can smell his cologne, sending waves through the taller boy's head. 

"I didn't say it was a joke," John breathes, flicking his eyes from Sherlock's eyes to lips, darting his tongue over his own. 

Sherlock blinks rapidly. 

_Too much data, but not enough..._

_System error 0214- reboot required._

_..._

**_"Sherlock?"_ **

_System error 0214- system still in reboot._

**_"Jesus, Sherlock, not again. You know how irritating these fucking blinking moments are."_ **

_John is speaking. Reboot is almost finished. Force early finish?_

_**"... Sherlock?"**  
_

_Reboot finished._

"Sherlock, please, would you speak to me?" John asks in a worried tone.

Sherlock's breath is shaking. His palms sweat madly and his heartbeat skyrockets. He wraps his arms around John and pulls him closer, not saying a word, yet John gets his cue perfectly.

Sherlock's eyes stay open as John leans his head in, but they quickly flutter shut after contact is made. 

Gently, oh, ever so gently, John kisses the taller boy, leaving Sherlock feeling weak kneed. He pulls John even closer, desperate to have him kiss him harder, stronger, and more rough, just like the girls he's seen with him. He doesn't give a shit anymore if he becomes one of the others, all he wants right now is for John to bring him into a room and order him around while John Watson- Captain John Watson- haves him hard and as many times as he'd like. Oddly enough, though, John isn't treating him like the rest. Obviously, he had consent with the rest, but he also obviously didn't just start- well- like this.

Letting out a quiet whine, Sherlock leans his head into the kiss as John slowly picks up the pace, eventually kissing the taller boy deeply, but with a soft undertone to it. As if he's afraid that anything beyond this might physically break Sherlock.

Eventually, they break apart, which leaves Sherlock breathing heavily and resting his forehead onto John's. "I-isn't this the time you usually take 'em into the back and give them a night to remember?" he breathes quietly.

Sherlock watches John look up at him a bit sadly. "Is that what you thought this is? Another shag?"

Sherlock nods slowly, biting his lip. He shifts away, feeling himself press against his pants, but feeling John press against his hip as well. "We've been kissing for a good long while, you've had something to drink, though now I'm believing not a lot since you don't really taste of the putrid mix of alcohol, we're also at a party and I can feel your quite impressive erection stabbing me. I'd imagine that this is a situation that many before me have been in, except I'm possibly the first male. Since all those before me happened to end up in the backs, calling your name in quite desperate gasps, it's safe to assume that I would end up like the rest."

Looking down, Sherlock only hears John's chuckling. "Only girls, huh?" he whispers.

Sherlock turns bright red. "W-well... I..."

"I'm surprised that from all these years, you could never tell that I'm bisexual," John whispers softly.

Sherlock blinks for another moment. How could he have missed that? There's always something, isn't there? "Oh..."

"I haven't really shagged another guy yet, though," John teases, smirking. "I was hoping maybe I could change that, and you're the only bloke that I want that to be."

Sherlock blushes harder, brain feeling like it'll shut down. "M-me? N-nonono, _m-me?!_ " he breathes.

John rolls his eyes. "Of course it's you, silly," he whispers, "it was always you."

Sherlock swallows hard. " _Ohhh,_ " he breathes even quieter. "B-but... o-oh..."

John shushes him with another kiss, which works perfectly, leaving Sherlock to wrap his arms around John's neck and pulling him closer. "Please," he whines, "just shag me-  _p-please!_ "

"Are you sure?" John breathe back, still holding onto Sherlock's waist. "I mean- we just kissed-"

"I've been wanting to have you shag me for years, just,  _please_ _!_ " Sherlock leans closer, shifting his hips so the rub together. Even through their clothes, Sherlock can't help the soft moan escaping in his breath. Maybe now isn't the time for Sherlock to mention that he's never actually done anything- or really- anyone. Sure, he used his fingers a couple times, and for all those who do want to, who doesn't wank off? 

John's tongue flicks across his lips again as he nods. "My car, now," he growls, smirking.

Eyes going wide, Sherlock nods quickly. "Y-yes, captain," he whimpers before parting away, taking John's hand and practically dragging him out of the house. He weaves through the crowd, mainly focusing on John's hand and his path to John's car. The walk there is torturous. Why the fuck did they have to park so far?

At least they aren't exactly the only people doing this. A few cars on the way obviously have couples inside as well.

Sherlock waits impatiently as John unlocks the car. Immediately, the taller boy drags John in as he lays back on the seat. He pulls the blonde boy on top of him. "J-John, I need to tell you something," he whispers uncertainly. Will John still want him if he knows? "I'm a virgin."

Expecting anything but, Sherlock gets pretty confused when John starts chuckling. "What?" he frowns.

"Nothing, just... I suppose I sort of assumed that already, but having you say it out loud makes it sound exactly unlike you. Stating the obvious."

Sherlock frowns more. "You assumed I'm a virgin?"

John rolls his eyes. "Don't take it too seriously. I know you well enough to figure this shit out." The boy leans down and lightly kisses Sherlock. "I said to come to the car because I have lubricant here in the back. Figured you'd need it."

Nodding quickly, Sherlock whines again. "S-stop talking and just fuck me already," he pants, arching his back up as he shifts around. 

To Sherlock's satisfaction, John searches around for a moment before grabbing a small bottle of lube off the floor or the car and a condom out of the glove box. Awkwardly, the blonde boy manages to get his costume's trousers as well as his pants down to his knees and opens the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling it onto him. 

Sherlock sits up, eyes going wide as he looks at John's cock.  _Fuck._ "You're huge," he breathes. "Will you... will you even fit?"

John chuckles and nods his head before looking at Sherlock for permission to take off curly haired boy's shorts. "With enough prepping, yeah."

Sherlock nods quickly, lifting his hips. As soon as John pulls off his pants and shorts, he feels so puny next to John. Alright, he's a tiny bit below average, but compared to John he might as well have a nub. To Sherlock's shock, John seems unfazed, thankfully.

Leaving on the thigh highs, John runs a hand up Sherlock's leg slowly, moving it towards the inside of Sherlock's thigh.

Gasping, Sherlock wriggles under John's touch. "J-John!" he moans, "a-ah, please!"

Sherlock whines loudly as John removes his hand, but is soon greeted by John kneeling between his open legs.

"Lift your legs for me please," the blonde boy says softly, still warming the lube up in his hands before working it onto his cock and fingers.

Nodding rapidly, Sherlock lifts his legs and wraps them around John's back, hooking them together by his ankles behind the other boy. Suddenly, he feels John's finger press against his puckered hole. 

"May I?" John breathes.

Sherlock whines loudly, panting as he nods. Quickly, he feels something push into him and he moans softly, trying to relax himself. As John presses his finger, then two fingers in, Sherlock shifts his hips, trying to get used to the new feeling. Oh yes, he can  _definitely_ get used to this. "M-more, John, please," he whimpers.

Moments later, Sherlock rocks his hips down, moving with the feeling of John pushing three fingers inside of him. 

After a few minutes, Sherlock's panting and begging for John's cock, rocking his hips down against his fingers. " _Please_ , John, fuck me h-hard with your h-huge cock!"

His eyes flutter shut right before he feels John's fingers exit him, but soon he feels something pressing at him again. This time, it's much bigger. 

"J-John,  _please_ ," he whines louder. "Y-yes, please!"

As John sinks into Sherlock, the curly haired boy's eyes shoot open. "O-oh, fuck, J-John!" He tries desperately to rock down and take more, still shifting to get used to the feeling. Oh god, John's just so  _big._ _  
_

Sherlock almost comes instantly, still gasping and mewling, rocking against John. As soon as John starts moving, Sherlock forces himself not to come as he pulls John closer. Although, after a few thrusts, Sherlock is sent over the edge and comes hard, back arching as he gasps John's name repetitively. "Oh J-John, John, John, John, J-John!"

Riding his orgasm out, Sherlock's left in pure ecstasy, but still moaning as John thrusts his hips until he finishes, moaning before collapsing onto Sherlock's chest, panting.

"Fuck," John breathes, deserving a chuckle from Sherlock.

They lay like that for a few minutes before Sherlock pokes John's side. "Take me to your home, Watson," he breathes.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I edit at all? Nope. Did I just use my shitty laptop's spell check? Yes.  
> Ugh. Sorry this was sort of rushed, but ayy, I got it done eventually, right?


End file.
